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“You have 3 new friend requests,” read the notification email on Cybil’s smartphone. She pressed the red bar and scrolled through the list of names and faces.
I know Jared, so I’ll hit “confirm.” Lauren’s a lady I met at that new hair salon. I don’t know her that well, but, I don’t want to be rude…”
She hit “confirm” and sighed.
Two down, one to go.
It was from Ty, a young man in her midweek bible study. They had been staring at each other for weeks, silently communicating interest, but never venturing past “grace and peace” on the way into the building.
Yes! Took him long enough. Definitely hitting “confirm.”
Cybil was about to press the screen when she noticed a link that read, “1 mutual friend.”
That’s strange…I didn’t think we ran in the same circles.
She swallowed the bait and clicked.
Ryan.
Cybil almost choked on her dinner. The lead crystal flute tipped over and crashed onto the floor, sending sparkling cider streaming in every direction.
At first, she didn’t recognize him, but it was those eyes. She could never forget those eyes. She felt herself falling, thousands of miles downward into dark memories.
What could these two men possibly have in common? How much does he know about me? Could that be the reason for his stares? I can’t have my worlds mixing like that… O Lord, grant me wisdom.
Cybil held off on accepting Ty’s friend request. It was just too close for comfort.
***
Cybil lived a nice, neat, clean, Christian life. She arrived at work on time every morning, volunteered on weekends; never missed a Sunday. She paid tithes and sang in the choir. One thing Cybil didn’t do was “testify.” If someone asked, “What was your life like before you got saved?” Cybil would smile and say, “It was a mess. I’ll spare you the details.” And she did.
***
“Cybil, girl, you got my money?”
Ryan’s face disappeared behind puffs of smoke as he counted stacks of cash on a card table.
“Not all of it. I had to take a little bit to buy some food.”
“Not all of it?” he repeated, backing her into the corner.
“It was only $30…I’ll pay it back, I promise.”
“Only $30?” Cybil hated when he turned her statements into questions. Anyway, she could make that money back in no time. Sure, he’d be a little upset, but it wouldn’t last. After all, she was “his girl, Cybil.”
“This is the last time I’m going to tell you, don’t be dipping into my money.”
Then, without warning, POW! A fist shot across her face, forcing it sideways.
Dear God, if You’re up there, please get me out of this mess.
First chance she got, she ran for freedom and refused to look back. A “friend” gave her a one-way bus ticket from New York to the Carolinas. She curled up into a window seat and watched the power lines rise and fall between poles.
“Young lady?” said an elderly woman in the next seat. “Would you like to share some fruit with me? I’ve got plenty.”
The woman seemed so kind and loving, Cybil felt obliged to partake. And somewhere between cantaloupes and strawberries, that woman told her all about Jesus. Long before arriving in Raleigh, new life had begun.
***
Ty had attended college in New York. When he wasn’t studying, he was distributing tracts with the school’s Christian club.
“God bless you, please take one,” they offered, smiling nervously.
Folks grabbed the pamphlets, stuffed them into purses or pockets, and kept walking. Discarded copies littered the sidewalk for blocks.
A burly young man walked up and commended their efforts.
“I know I need God in my life, like, right now. These streets out here? They’re the devil. So what you got? Break it down for me.”
So Ty began to open the Word of God. Moments turned into hours. The two men got burgers at a fast food joint. By the end of the night, Ryan had bowed his head, weeping in surrender to the claims of Christ.
“Keep in touch,” Ty said, as he returned to his dorm.
“No doubt,” said Ryan, clutching his new Bible.
He sent him a friend request.
***
Cybil checked her inbox.
I won’t contact you again…I just wanted to say “I’m sorry” for all the pain I’ve caused in your life. I’m a Christian now. Pray for me, as I for you. Ryan.
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